Vongola Primo Novels & Stories

He said, dismissing the lady beside him. "You forget who he really is then. You've been in these business for a long time, Mr Bellari. Do you think we would stay home because a building was brought down?" I raised a brow. "No, definitely not. After all, these is the best place to search for the criminal who did that." He nodded. "I see you invited all of Italy's most important personnel." L'angelo said. "No no, not at all. Saying it like that might make me seem as someone of great importance. I conduct business, yes. But no one comes close to the formidable Mr L'angelo Morte."

The other four companies are illegal companies trading in illegal goods and services. Vittorio Russo is the CEO and Capo of Vittorio's CyberTech Solutions, which is a façade for the Rinaldi family's cybercrime activities. Giovanni "Gio" Romano, is the face of the Rinaldi family's legitimate enterprise, Romano Pharmaceuticals, which in turn they use as a front to sell illegal drugs. Isabella "Bella" Marino is the CEO and Capo of the escort service, which is used as the best cover for their blackmail operations.

The thing was charred, but I recognized it immediately. A Capone family crest. Burned and twisted, slashed through the middle. “Your days are numbered.” Dante came up beside me, eyes narrowing. “That’s Remo’s handwriting.” Remo Lombardi. Rino’s son. The little bastard wanted to provoke me. He didn’t just spit on my name. He put a match to it. I turned to Silvio, “Get eyes on every Lombardi shipment within city limits. Dismantle their routes. Shake down their dealers. And I want every rat they’ve got on payroll bleeding by sunrise.”

The sudden, sharp vibration of my other phone, the burner I kept specifically for business, snapped me away from Alessia's sleeping face. A name burned across the screen, Vincenzo Capone. I stared at the name, then I glanced back at her peaceful face on the first phone, then at the glowing threat of the second. I lifted the burner and pressed it to my ear, forcing the switch back to business mode. “Capone,” I said, my voice turned cold. “Lombardi,” Vincenzo’s voice clipped back immediately. He already sounded pissed. And right at that precise moment, through the speaker of the phone still resting on the desk, Alessia sleepily whispered, “Hm?”

They pour into the room, guns raised, faces tense, until they see the body on the floor. Murmurs ripple through them. “Don Romano is…” “He’s dead,” Riccardo completes it. Confusion, panic and fear fills the guards. Then Vincenzo steps forward. Tall. Calm. Deadly. “Lower your weapons,” he commands. Some hesitate. Riccardo raises his gun slightly. “I wouldn’t disobey if I were you,” he warns. Silence. “Lorenzo Romano is dead,” Vincenzo announces calmly. “I am Vincenzo Romano, the first son of the Romano family. From this moment forward, I am the head of this family, and the new Mafia Lord.”

LORENZO “...we’re rebuilding the whole master system. It’ll take me a while, but one thing’s clear. The same person who got that idiot Alpha Luca out is the one who was helping him, and the one who hacked the car and Victoria’s phone.” I listened while Leo walked us through Nino’s report. Everyone had gotten there right away. The villa was under guard, bodyguards spread through the woods. I couldn’t have felt safer even in the capital. “So the short version is somebody outsmarted you, and now I have to spend millions all over again on a brand-new system,” I told Nino harshly.

H*ngry. He growls—a deep, low vibration that sends an electric pulse straight to my core. I should hate this. I should hate him. But my body? It betrays me. The heat, the tension, the sheer dominance in his voice— It excites me. Then, his voice drops to a warning whisper, brushing against my ear. "Don't be too friendly, Diana Fallacia. You won't like it when I'm mad." My breath stalls. Is it because of the way he called me by my full name? The way it sounds coming from his lips—so intimate, so possessive?

He tried one last desperate plea. “We... we can give you leverage. Assets. Offshore accounts. Protection...” Roman’s lip curled. “I don’t need your protection.” Elena watched, eyes dark, grip steady. “Roman,” she said quietly. He turned. She nodded once. He understood. Together, they pulled the triggers. Two shots. Perfectly synchronized. Clean. Final. Vargo crumpled to the floor first, a dead weight sliding down the wall. Dante fell backward into his chair, eyes wide and lifeless, wine spilling like dark blood across the table.

A wounded man is far more dangerous. —Come here —Alejandro said, pulling her into his arms and onto his lap. —Dino won’t beat me. He didn’t before, and he won’t now —Alejandro assured her. But Isabela wasn’t entirely sure. Dino had had plenty of time to regroup and find powerful allies while they were in Greece. That fear seeped through the walls of the Villa Moretti, even though no one said a word. In Rome, at the headquarters of the National Directorate of Finance, in an office filled with cold lights and the smell of fresh ink, Deputy Commissioner Vittorio Salvi flipped through a thick file while a young assistant served him an espresso.

“Start with Milan. Give me the name of the bank, the vault number, the courier they use. Then Venice. Then Rome. Tell me Hernández’s safe house on the east coast. The guard struck him with hot metal again. Giuseppe’s eyes closed as he screamed for a second. He breathed, heavily. “Fine. Milan—Banca Lombarda. Vault twelve-nineteen. Venice—Banco Montelmar, private vault three. Rome—Velásquez moves money through a shell called Adriatica Holdings, accounts rotate so I don’t have the numbers. Hernández—he rents a small place in Capo d’Orlando, three blocks from the pier.” Dominic typed away on his phone as he spoke. “What about flights? Courier names?”